


Handsome Stranger

by Dynamic_Ideation



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Shameless Smut, Smut, Strangers, WestAllen Smut Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4190358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dynamic_Ideation/pseuds/Dynamic_Ideation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry likes to use the showers late at night because no one else is ever in there. But tonight someone is, and she takes him by total surprise, in the best way possible.</p>
<p>“Yeah, really. I mean, it’s kind of…sexy.”<br/>Barry is immediately onboard. “You like to watch, huh?”<br/>“I think I do.” She says, and goes further, “I think I want to see what it looks like when you take matters into your own hands, so to speak.”</p>
<p>I'm forty minutes late for masturbation monday, but oh well! ;) Westallen Smut Week!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handsome Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this because I saw a Westallener wanted it. Hopefully they like it, and hopefully you do too! As always, I love me some kudos and comments, so don't be shy!

She walks in and freezes.

No one’s supposed to be in here at this hour. No one ever is.

Goddamn coed showers. 

The stall that’s missing it’s door is the only one that pumps a decent temperature. He turns his back, quickly, aforementioned hot water sluicing over the front of him.“I was just, this isn’t-“  
She doesn’t look offended, exactly, maybe more curious.  
“No, it’s alright.” Her voice moves closer to him, cutting through the drumming of the spray. “Don’t stop on my account.” She sounds, dare he say, entertained.  
“Really?” He looks over his shoulder at her. She’s fine as all hell, and all she’s wearing is a canary yellow bath towel and shower shoes. He hair’s pinned up in a wild bun, and her exposed shoulders are glowing.  
“Yeah, really. I mean, it’s kind of…sexy.”  
Barry is immediately onboard. “You like to watch, huh?”  
“I think I do.” She says, and goes further, “I think I want to see what it looks like when you take matters into your own hands, so to speak.”

It’s getting humid. The air is wet and thick. She’s approaching him. He can feel the air humming with her energy, growing stronger and stronger.  
Closer. Closer. So close.  
She’s touching him, fingertips low on his back, and he shivers as if from sudden cold.  
“Would you like some help, Handsome Stranger? You want me to touch it?” Her hands slide up towards his shoulders, water sheeting down her delicate arms. “Of course you do.”

She says this, but she only consents to tease him for now, tracing circles over the bones of his hips, splaying her hands over his thighs. Every movement makes Barry’s breathing ragged. 

She’s making him insane. 

Anyone could walk in and see them right now. 

They don’t care. 

“Can I see?” He turns to her. Blows the water away that’s running into his beautiful mouth. He slicks back the thick dark hair that’s plastered to his face.  
“Holy shit, Stranger, you are something else when you’re all wet.” She looks him up and down with predatory eyes. “Quite the, um, tool you got there.”

He can see, too.  
Damp digits inch up damp creamy thighs, sneaking beneath yellow cotton, reaching for somewhere sweet.  
“I got nothing on you,” he retorts, “Dry or wet. But I prefer soaking wet.”  
“This is really sexy,” she breathes, voice dissipating on the saturated air. “Mind if I join you?”  
“Please do,” Barry says, half smile on his face.

He towers over her, gripping the top of the stall wall. He reaches out to touch her as well, his hand held low because she’s so petite. She’s so soft between those thighs. He feels like he’s massaging the petals of some sort of flower. Maybe a rose. Or a lily. Or an iris. She responds by riding against him, signaling that she was hungry, that she wanted more. 

She bites her lip as he dives in, gently searching for the spot that would make her body shake. He finds it. Her eyebrows knit together and her mouth drops open in surprise. Barry guides her, like a marionette, up against the wall. She backs into it with a slight thud, and following his movements, slides up and down. Her face twists away, eyes tight shut, teeth in her own shoulder, in the throes of some strange passion formed purely by serendipity. 

His middle finger works her G Spot while his thumb rolls in circles over her clit. And he rolls it. And rolls it. She no longer has any control and she’s gyrating her hips on his dextrous appendages.

She’s amazed at how fast his hands can move.

Her knees shake, threatening to give way under her.  
She giggles. “Want to watch me cream, Handsome Stranger?”  
“Shit yeah.”  
“Then keep going.” He does.

“Harder. Faster.” There’s urgency in her voice.  
Her eyes go wide this time, but they are hazy, unseeing, unfocused. He feels her walls pulsing on him, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing, and wishes it was his dick instead. Her nails dig into his arms, and she claws at him in order to remain upright. The sounds she makes are musical, operatic. Barry feels more wetness drizzle down his wrist, and he knows it has nothing to do with the shower. 

“Mmm, thank you,” she sighs, blowing the air out of her lungs as if she was smoking a cigarette, corners of her lips upturned in afterglow.

In turn she grips his rod, underhanded, cradling it, caressing. “How does that meat feel? Is it ready for me?”  
Yes, he tries to say, but the words stick in his throat.

All of him is wet, making it easy for her to jerk him, with a feather light touch that became firm in just the right places, at just the right times. 

“You’re heavy.” He tries to laugh but it comes out as more of a cough. 

Both hands brace him against the stall this time, clenching and unclenching his fingers.  
Closer. Closer. So close.  
“Come on, Stranger.” She huffs, head thrown back, chin lifted. 

“Fuuuuuuuuuck!” Whereas the oath was originally stuck, now it is ripped from his throat. He slams the flat of his hand into the wall above her head. It makes a hell of a racket.

They don't care.  
Barry feels a rush within him. He shoots, thick and milky, all over her cheerful fluffy towel.  
“Oh my God,” she gasps, mouth gaping in disbelief. She throws her head back and laughs. He would too, if he could catch his breath.

She finally takes the towel off, and throws it on a nearby hook.  
“Well, so much for drying off with that.” She teases.  
“Use mine,” he offers, slightly embarrassed, but completely satisfied.

They shower together, in silence, as if afraid to reveal to each other their secrets. They soap each others backs, shoulders, bellies, chests with the familiarity of long-time lovers. Their nudity goes unquestioned, but they don’t ask each other’s names. He wonders for a moment if he can kiss her. He quickly dismisses the thought.  
When they’ve exhausted the last of the hot water, she steps out and dries herself with his towel while he finishes up. She tosses his up and pulls her own, still dotted with his jizz.

Barry is, naturally, curious about her. “Hey, I-“ He looks for her, but she’s vanished. The slam of the door echoes on the cold tile, followed by a gust of cool breeze from the hall. 

But it feels that there was somehow more there, in those last steamy moments, than maybe they’d let on. Maybe tomorrow night, at exactly this same time, he’ll be right here.


End file.
